On the Other Side
by Washuu Puppet
Summary: Ash is the son of an Earl, a cursed life in his eyes ... considering his Mother is always pressuring him into finding a lady. But when he revieces a mysterious b-day gift, it reveals more then beauty. Ash just needs to find how and why
1. Dream

            It's…that dream again. It's so odd, so different. Everything is so clear and shiny, like a water's surface. Ripples bounce off, but don't extend into the many rings you usually see. The noise is very strange. It sounds almost like a bleating lamb. I've arrived at the spot once more, where the water splits and you are thrown into a diverse world. Flashbacks of one's past go before my eyes. But who's are they? The bleating noise slowly gets louder as I get to my feet and decide to search this new world on the other side of the water's surface. Louder and louder the moaning becomes and the sounds of the ripple's echoes flinch greater. I see my hand stretch out, fingers spread. Just a little bit farther and I'll have it. Just a little bit more!

"Wake up!"

            I open my eyes wide and see my arm extended into the air and my fist grasping nothing. That was definitely peculiar if you ask me. Even stranger is the fact that I've had that dream more then once before. The same thing happens over and over in each dream. I'm surprised I'm not a somnambulist with all the exotic and vivid nightmares my slumber brings. I force myself to sit up in bed. Today, was my birthday. My 17th birthday to be precise. I'm glad nobody was going all out for it. It seems like everybody in town knows about my life. Why wouldn't they, with my father being the Earl and all. Being the son of an Earl can be such a cursed life. 

"Boy? Did you hear me?"

"Yes, Mother." I reply sleepily. "I heard you perfectly."

"Then get up!" My mother scouts. "We need to prepare for the party."

"What if I don't wish to go, Mother?" I ask.

"You must, Ash, it is, after all, your birthday." Mother answers.

"A celebration is not needed. I know it's my birthday, that's all that's required." 

"Snap out of that attitude now, boy." My mother says surprisingly sweet. "We are having guests from all over Europe! Your father is even having an old friend of his come from Sweden!"

"Lovely, Mother." I moan.

"Don't be shy! I won't force you to look at any women this time." My mother reads my mind. Friends of my father usually seem to come equipped with a daughter to spare.

"Why are you so pushy in me getting a Lady so early? It's not like Father is going to roll over and kick the bucket just after he orders his eggs for breakfast." I said.

"Ash." My mother groans. "I hate to say this, but you never know!"

"Well, what I do know, Mother, is that I don't wish for a Lady at the moment. Definitely not a Swede."  I roll my eyes and pull myself out of bed and finally go to open the door to talk to my mother face-to-face. "Can you understand that, Mother? Please?"

My mother was standing there, biting her laced kerchief with sappy eyes, and a quivering lip. "They make good chocolate."

I force a laugh. "Can't I just decide on my own? Now, I'll get dressed and meet you downstairs for breakfast. Okay?"

"Okay." My mother squeaks and turns around and leaves. 

I sigh as I watch her go. She is so sensitive at times. It was also like her to think of the country's strong points if I were to consider a woman who lived there. Swedes make good chocolate. I chuckle to myself and close the door to get dressed for the day. I slowly make my way down to the dinning hall and take my place at the endless table. Mother and Father were already there. My mom picks at some melon as my dad chews heartily on some ham. A bowl of five minute eggs is placed before me and I reach for the salt. 

"I truly cannot wait to see my old friend, Hans." Father mumbles to Mother with a mouthful. I continue to eat quietly by myself.

"It's good to see you happy, Darling." Mother replies.

 "If only that son of mine would crack a smile." Father says grimly.

I sigh to myself. "I don't care, Father."

"I know you do," Father said. "deep down." He laughs. "Somewhere down in that iron middle, there's a sensitive side. Just need to show it more so you seem more attractive."

"Darling! Don't say iron middle. It makes him sound fat." Mother snivels in worry.  

"It's okay, Mother." I grit my teeth. 

"You shouldn't have pampered him so much, Delia." My Father points his fork at Mother.

"But he was so small!" Mother wails.

I stand up after setting my spoon down and push in my chair.

"Where are you going? Your eggs will get cold." Mother said.

"Why are we talking so much about me? We usually don't have me for the subject this early in the morning." I say angrily. 

"Why is it bothering you?" Father says as he chews.

"Answer my question first." I reply.

"Well," My Mother laughs illicitly. "Hans did say he was bringing a true beauty."  
I groan loudly in frustration. "That's enough, Mother! No women, you hear me? NO WOMEN!"

"Don't tell me you want a man." My father mutters.

"Darling!" Mother puts a hand over her mouth in a gasp.

"No, Father." I say straightly. "Now if you don't mind, I'll be outside."

"Just, be back before two o'clock, Sweetie." Mother calls. "Lunch is served."

"And what is he doesn't show up?" I hear my Father whisper.

"Dinner is half past seven!" Mother calls again.

            I stomp out of the hall and the large, main oak doors. It was a very bright day today, with a very cool breeze that swept across the land every once in a while. I'd do anything to get away from this life. My Mother and Father are such…procurators. They might think of finding a Lady for me to be an insignificant affair, but I believe it to be a large matter. I take the path down through the woods. There was a swindler that was actually quite kind to me before that would let me borrow his cart. I could ride that down to the creek where I like to spend my time these kind of days. Our small palace was on a peninsula, and I had to ride a ways before getting to complete land and actually rivers, not just lakes. I knew a boy down there, a peasant, who would always talk with me. I think I'd visit him today…I haven't seen him in a while. 


	2. Gift

            Late morning, I sit by the creek, far away from my cares and my castle. I love quiet days. The kind you can only find away from all the stuff you hear every single day. They calm me. The wind is mild in this area because of the trees enclosing the scene. The water is crystal clear, you can see every pebble that lies on the bottom. Each unsullied against the gentle sunlight. It reminds me of my dream. I thought I was going to get away from everything, but I guess some things have to stay, otherwise you'd no longer be the person you are. Something had to follow me here. I hear the cracking of twigs and leaves being rustled from behind me. My peasant friend emerges and is taken aback to see me. He holds his heart in his hand.

"Sire, you surprised me."

"Please, don't call me that." I say quietly.

"Sorry, it comes naturally, my Lord." The boy takes a seat next to me.

"That too." I added.

"Sorry."

"Have you been doing well, Jonathan?" I ask.

"Yes, Sire, I am fine." Jonathan replies, but instantly adds, "Sorry."

"I guess I should get used to it." I sigh to myself. "I just want people to see me as a person too, not just the Earl's son." 

"I see you as a man. I was just taught to act like that to royals." Jonathan said.

"I understand." I pick up a rock and skip it across the creek. It hops around three times before falling down to the bottom with a plop. "Are you good at translations, Jonathan?"

"What kind of translations do you mean, Sire? I only know one language, the one I speak."

"Not that kind of translation." I rest my chin in my palm. "I'm talking about dreams."

"You're still troubled by your dreams?" Jonathan asks. I've told him about my previous ones, but not my most recent. The one that is practically consuming my brain. "I'll try to help."

"Thank you. It's one that is just driving the living hell out of me." I say.

"It's making you that crazy?" Jonathan questions.

"It starts out at blank room, the floor is like glass, but you see ripples going across it like water." I begin. "The only noise I can hear is like the sound of a bleating lamb. It's very sweet, yet distressed.  The water splits and I fall through into another dimension, it seems. The crying gets louder and louder and the ripples echo over and over inside my head. Everything is so stunningly clean, the walls itself are like mirrors. I see images appear before me, of another's past. The faces are in shadow though, so I can't tell if they're familiar. I see a picture of a meadow, and then of a barn. A girl is in them all, she looks to be around five or six in age. In some of them are an older man who always is holding a wooden club in one hand, and a leather whip in the other."

"That is very strange, Sire." Jonathan comments.

"It's not the end of it." I say. "After the images pass, The man and the girl come to life before me. The man holds out the club to me, and I'm lured to take it. I reach out and every time my hand gets closer, the girl falls through the glass-like floor a bit. I can never seem to reach it. I've never gotten as far as to touch it. I've always woken up before I could get it."

"And the man and the girl are always in shadow?" said Jonathan.

"Yes. They're all black, with no features what so ever. So, I could be wrong in saying one is a man and one is a girl. It's all very confusing to me." I ramble off. "I can't help but think about it."

"I understand your situation now, Sire. All I have to say is, I've only heard this from the old woman in town, but, if you see a weapon in a dream, it means some type of despair." Jonathan informs. "And she also told me that glass means mystery, and water means incarceration."

"Despair, mystery, and incarceration." I repeat. 

"I hope that helps, Sire. Hopefully, it doesn't give you even more to think about. I don't mean to make your mind more troubled." Jonathan says.

"Don't you worry about that, Jonathan." I smile. "I have plenty of time to think. And your hints may make that time more enjoyable for me."

"The old woman does have some very out-of-the-blue ideas, Sire. I wouldn't trust every word." Jonathan warns.

"A lot of things are out-of-the-blue, Jonathan." I reply. "My Mother expects me to find at Lady tonight at my birthday party celebration."

"That doesn't sound new." Jonathan says more to himself then to me. "But, hasn't she pressured you to find a woman before?"

"Yes, that's true." I nod. "But she's never gone on and on like this. I have a feeling this friend of my father's who's coming, will not only be bringing a girl, but something else with him."

"What?"

"I don't know yet, I'll have to find out myself." I reply and bid farewell to my friend. I get back on the cart and ride back up the path towards my home. It was a little after noon, so I should be home about one-thirty. Just in time for lunch.

            When I returned to the hall that afternoon, Mother came running down the front steps like a mad woman, holding up her dress so she doesn't trip. She was all frantic like usual, asking so many stupid questions. Where did you go? Did you meet anybody there? Was it a woman? Was it a man? What did you talk about? It was so very annoying. I didn't answer any of the questions. It was none of her business. I just passed her and went inside and up to my room. She only stood outside the door, commanding me to open it. Mother gave up after about a half an hour. I quietly leave my room after checking if she was spying on me, or something, and go to the bath. I run it full of hot water and add some minerals before settling down. I thought about what Jonathan had told me before. Despair, Mystery, and Incarceration. Despair also means misery, mystery means  something is unclear, and Incarceration means imprisonment. What in the world could that dim-witted dream mean? I could not ignore it. I put my head in my hands for a second, then submerge under the hot bath water. I hear muffled voices above me and come up and inhale.

"There you are." Mother said.

"I just wanted to escape for a little bit, that's all." I reply.

"Can you blame me for being worried?" asked Mother.

"You worry when I sleep."

"Are you trying to make clear to me that I'm a dire mother?" Mother points to herself.

"No, I'm not." I say. "I'm just trying to tell you that you shouldn't be so stressed out if I happen to leave for a couple of hours. I'm a grown man now, Mother. I can watch out for myself." 

"You try being in my shoes for a day, Mister." Mother counters. "You're my only baby."

"I'm my own person. I know I'm your son, I'm not running away from that fact." I said.

Mother sighs heavily out of the side of her mouth, fluffing up her deep brown bangs. She smiles. "Come on then, get a robe and come downstairs. We need to get everything ready."

"Yes, Mother." I stand up and step out of the bath after she leaves the room. 

            I put on a robe and go downstairs to meet with Mother and Father. Surprisingly, they are already talking to someone else down there. I don't recognize the voice at all. It wasn't the chef or one of the maids. It had a strange accent attached. I enter the room in which they stand and the man turns around to see me. He was extraordinarily tall. He was at least a head taller then my father. He wore black dress pants and a forest green dress shirt. He had dark reddish-brown hair and a thin mustache under his nose, and a small line of hair on his chin, like a miniscule beard. He had bright blue eyes and he was missing one of his front two teeth. Both him and my mother and father held a glass of wine. Next to the new man was a large blanket that was covering something.

"Dear Young Ash, we finally meet." The man says.

"Son, this is my friend, Hans. He came all the way from Sweden." My father informs.

"It's just across the Baltic Sea." I reply.

"It's a pretty wide bay, my dear boy." Hans smiles. "Plus, I live on the northern part of the finger called Sweden. So we had to travel quite a ways just to get to the Baltic."

"You say we," I point out. "But I only see yourself. Who accompanied you on your trip?"

Hans's smile fades, but he instantly puts a new one on. "Why, my beauty of course."

My mother lets out a giggle.

I look around the room. "Where is she?"

Hans laughs shrilly. "My dear boy, she's right in front of your eyes." Hans moves aside and gestures towards the large sheet-covered object.

My mother's smile drops. Mine goes up. Perhaps this Hans guy wasn't brining a woman after all, my mother was wrong. "Let me see then." I say.

"Well, if you insist. This is your birthday present, My Young Lord, from me. I hope you will enjoy my beauty." Hans bows and swipes off the vast blanket.

I wouldn't necessarily say that I was impressed, but it was a stunning gift. I wouldn't have guessed it. Underneath the blanket was a tremendously huge body-sized mirror. It had a broad, gold frame with designs carved into it of what looked to be leaves. I walk up closer to it and put my hand on the edge of it, gazing over my robed reflection. My black hair was still damp and almost hung to my shoulders. 

"It's beautiful." I hear myself say.

"Thank you, My Young Lord." Hans replies.

"This…is a beauty?" My Mother says astonished. "I thought you were speaking of a woman!"

"No, my dear Lady." Hans says. "I'm dreadfully sorry for the confusion I must have instigated. I've brought no women on my journey. Only, the beauty I created."

"You made this?" I ask.

"Yes, My Young Lord. I did." Hans says.

"It's very well crafted. I congratulate you on your accomplishment." I said as I run my hand down the frame once more.

"Thank you very much, My Young Lord." Hans bows his head.

"I do have one question to ask you though." Said I.

"And what may it be?" Hans perks his head up.

"Why would you give it away to me if it is already cherished dearly by yourself?" I cannot take my eyes off this mirror. 

"I had no need for it." Hans replies. "And, I thought, what would make me happier then giving this to someone else and make them happy?" 

"Very thoughtful of you." My Mother says painfully. She was still depressed that Hans didn't bring a girl for me to test.

"Don't be so disappointed, Delia." Father whispers to her. He then turns Hans. "Thank you for the gift, dear Friend."

"Yes, Thank you." I say.

"You are very welcome, Young Lord." Hans said.

            Later that day, I have the mirror brought up to my room. I put it at the foot of my bed against the wall, so when I wake up, I could see it. I truly have no idea why I like it so much. There was just something about it that left me in some state of awe. There was some sort of beauty attached to it. I didn't want to go downstairs to the party, I wanted to say up here in my room and just stare into this mirror. I loved this birthday gift. I am so glad that this beauty wasn't a woman. 


	3. Crying

            The party was the most tedious affair I have ever attended in my life. It was just a room full of fancy people talking and drinking. Every once in a while, one of my mother's shrill giggles broke the dull buzzing of chatter. I sat at the dinning table for the whole time, taking little nibbles as I pleased. My mind was always elsewhere. It was like that mirror was calling out for me, crazy as it sounds. My dream was starting to affect me even in my hours when I was awake. I heard the noise that was like the bleating of a lamb. Ringing inside my head like a large brass bell. I excuse myself and quietly sneak up the staircase and into my room. I close the door and sigh heavily. I take off my fancy outer clothes and sit on the floor in front of the mirror in my undershirt and pants. It was like I was seeing myself for the first time. I looked different then last time it appeared. 

The sobbing continues.

"Who's there?" I ask automatically as I flinch and turn to look around my room. There was nobody there. I hit myself on the head. "Pull yourself together, Ash. That dream is getting to your head too much."  
More crying and dirges.

I hate talking to myself, but I have no choice. "This is stupid. Why am I hearing things? If everyone found out that the Earl was mentally insane…oh, that wouldn't be good."

Weeping followed by a few hic-ups. 

"Despair, mystery, incarceration." I repeat Jonathan's words. "Misery, unclear, imprisonment." 

I recall the man in my dream, holding out the club for me to take. I look around the room for something that would resemble such a thing. I take one of the silver candlesticks that sat on my nightstand. I remove the wax pillar and hit the silver part against my palm. The crying stops shortly.  I walk around my room, tapping the candlestick against my hand. The crying didn't continue, so I put the silver candlestick down on my bed. I smile to myself, thinking I had stopped my crazy idea. Then, I clamp my hand over my mouth…there was someone else breathing, and quite profoundly at that. Feeling completely brainless, I pick up the candlestick again and walk around the room.

"Show yourself," I say softly. "Stop playing with my mind."

To my great surprise and fear, there was an answer. An extremely supple reply comes in a small voice. "I try not to."

My ears strain to hear what the voice said. I make it out barely. "Why do you cry? Why are you here?"

"Why must I answer?" Came the tiny voice.

"You talk to me like that? I am the son of the Earl…where is your respect towards the royals?" I spit out without thinking. I don't really care about respect towards the higher people.

"I don't care who you are." The answer, followed by a sniff.

"Why do you cry?" I ask again.

"Why do you cry?" The voice mimics.

"I do not cry…Why are you haunting me like this?" 

The tiny voice laughs a little. "I do not haunt. I am not here on my own will."

"Who brought you here, then?" I say as I try to figure out where the voice is coming from.

"You did."

"I did not!" I yell.

"Are you so sure?" The diminutive voice replies.

            I stop to think. A tiny glint catches my eye and my head turns towards the mirror. My mouth hangs open. I go and sit on the floor in front of it once more, the candlestick in my lap. I reach out and run my finger down the fine glass. To my great shock, disclosure and horror, my reflection melts away and is replaced by one of another. I quickly look behind myself but there is no one standing there. In the mirror was the body of a girl. Wearing a dress of mauve with dingy red hair upon her head, she is sitting down, leaning against the frame of the mirror. She turns her head and looks at me with these deep aqua eyes and a pale face, pink cheeks. I reach out my hand once more and lay it flat on the surface of the glass. She does the same, putting hers on top of mine. I still feel only cold glass, not flesh. She pulls her hand away and so do I. All I can do is stare in astonishment. This was so amazing, so ridiculous. The crying was coming from the mirror. My dream was unfolding right in front of my eyes. Despair, mystery, and incarceration. She's in anguish, you could tell by the look on her face. It's a complete mystery how she got into this mirror in the first place. All the same, being in the mirror is her incarceration. Her imprisonment. Was my dream all about this one moment? A signal towards the future. 

I finally find my voice. "Why do you cry?" I ask again.

The girl swallows hard. "Why do you think?"

"You're sad." I say.

She gives me a thumbs-up. "Congratulations, bimbo. You get the prize."

"Bimbo?" I repeat with slight disgust.

"Are you too proper to know what that means? Do I need to help you out?" The girl taunts.

"I know what a bimbo is." I said. "Stop mocking me."

She laughs. "I try not to."  
I grit my teeth from sudden furry, but calm myself down. "How…how did you get in there?"  
The girl in the mirror resituates herself and faces me. "I believe the answer should come to you quite easily. You're a royal, as you say, you should be able to use your head. Or is that only reserved for your crown?"  
This girl had an attitude! Sheesh! "I bet you only say that because you're a peasant." 

"I grew up in the country side. A few miles west of Sarna." The girl replies.

"Sarna? Where is that?" I ask.

"A town in Sweden, about 100 kilometers east of the border with Norway. I'm just guessing, but around 500 kilometers north of the Baltic Sea." 

"You're pretty smart for a reflection." I spit.

"You think I'm actually supposed to be in here, Bimbo!?" The girl flares.

"I asked you how you got in there, you could have just answered me then." I say.

"You're aberrant."

"I'd have to say that you are as well." I reply.

"You are even more strange. Look at yourself. You're talking to a girl in a mirror." The girl laughs.

"You laugh at your situation?" I ask. That stops her. 

"See here, prissy boy,"

"Ash,"

"Whatever!" The girl shouts at me. "If you're not going to even ask how to help me, I'll just…" She lets out a huge moan and starts to fade in the mirror.

"Hey, wait!" I  yell, but she had already vanished completely from the mirror. The sobbing started up again for a few minutes then slowly dimmed into the darkness of the night. 


	4. Misty

            When I first opened my eyes the next morning, everything was a haze. I rub my eyes and blink a few times to get everything back to that sharp clearness. I just lie there for a moment, staring at the ceiling. That night was so unbelievably strange. It happened so fast, but seemed to go on for hours. Plus, I had no further dream during my sleep. I was out like a light and no visions appeared to me. I smile to myself. Yes! Finally, everything has been cured! I sit straight up with my fist tight with happiness and giggle to myself. 

"Good Morning."

            I jump sky-high. My sheets fly everywhere as I tumble off of my bed and onto the floor. I couldn't bring myself to blink as I lay flat on my stomach, sprawled out like a baby in its crib. My shoulders touched my ears with every heaving breath. I couldn't believe the after-shock. Such surprise. I finally push myself up to sit. My head turns quickly to the sound of little titters and sniggers. That girl in the mirror! She was still there! I thought it was all a dream; I thought it was the end. Yet she still sits against the frame; behind the glass laughing at me for my sudden alarm in response to her comment. How can she just sit there, smiling into the real world when she's trapped like that? Is she actually happy in there? 

"'Morning." I groan.

She continues to chuckle to herself uncontrollably. "Sorry."

"Laughing like that doesn't make it sound like you're truly sincere." I say.

She doesn't care about my words. "Did you sleep well?"

"Like a rock." I reply, trying to keep the grudge out of my voice. "How about you?"

"You think I slept?" The girl asks.

"I can only presume." I said quietly.

"I can tell you don't have much luck with women." The girl chats and my temper starts to flare.

"How can you say that? You don't know me!" I yell.

"Of course I don't know you…but I can just tell by the tone of your voice." The girl replies. "You sound so apologetic when you speak. Almost like a little timid mouse reaching to the piece of cheese on the table while trying not to be noticed by the wife in the kitchen."

"You say I act like a mouse?" I say stunned. "I find that completely preposterous. Such insolence."

"If I'm insolent, then you must be the king of vulgarity." The girl puts her hands behind her head in a relaxed way. "Haven't you ever heard of chivalry? Or aren't men like you taught such things?"

"Answer me your name." I demand.

"Why such a sudden change?" The girl spits back. 

"When people meet, don't they exchange names? I told you mine last night, so why haven't I heard yours yet?" I say.

"You never asked." The girl laughs.

"Must I beg?"

"That would by nice, but I guess I'll give you a break for this once." The girl resituates herself and sits on her knees, facing me. I crawl on the floor from the side of my bed and sit in front of the mirror, facing her. She just stares at me.

"Well…?" I entice. 

"If you pull that tone with me again, I'll have your head." The girl said angrily then clears her throat. "My name is Chantal." 

"You joke." Replied I.

"Why do you say that?" asked the girl.

I laugh. "You can just tell by the tone in your voice."

"Shut up, prissy boy." The girl defends.

"You like calling me that, don't you?" I giggle.

"Why are you all of a sudden so flushed?" The red-head snaps.

I stop laughing at try my hardest to keep a stern face. "Sorry. Now, may I please know your name?"

Mirror-girl sighs, fluffing her rosy bangs. She looks into my eyes, and I could tell she was going to tell the truth this time. "My name, since you must know, is Misty."

"Ah, Misty…" I nod. "Pretty name."

"Don't you dare get fresh." 

I point to myself. "You…you call that fresh?" I laugh. "You haven't seen me get fresh."

"You've got me terrified." The girl says with an exasperated look on her face.

I just stare at her then. She slowly turns her head away from my gaze. Even from the other side of the mirror, I could see her cheeks turn a raspberry pink against her moon-white face. I smile subtly. Misty's hands twist the bottom of her pale purple dress. I realize I was leaning forward. I relax and put my back up against the foot of my bed. There comes a large knock on my door. I look at Misty, her eyes getting bigger. She looks at for one last time before fading back into the silvery reflection of the mirror. I stand up and stare at the door.

"Who is it?" I ask nervously.

"You're up already? Wow! I didn't even have to yell once." My mother says happily.

"Yes, Mother. I am awake. I have been for about fifteen minutes or so." I reply.

"So nice." Her words are her smile. "Breakfast will be served in a little while, sweetie, so you better get changed if you already aren't."

"Yes, Mother. See you then."

"'Bye for now, Honey." My mother says and I then hear her footsteps go down the hall.

            I sigh heavily. She didn't overhear anything. I am glad. I go over to my drawers and pick out a pair of white slacks and a nice shirt. I open the drapes in front of my window and let some sunlight in the room. The yellow glow bounces off all the dust floating in the air. I look outside and up to the never-ending blue sky. Not a cloud in sight. I turn around and untie my pajama bottoms and slip them down. I grab for my pants.

"Hehehehe…"

I turn around quickly, my face going beet-red all over. "MISTY!"

She puts a hand over her mouth, blushing as well. "Sorry." She fades again.

I finish changing with my eyes always fixed on the mirror, making sure she doesn't appear again. Mumbling to myself about how she was talking about rudeness, I exit my bedroom and head down to breakfast. Hopefully, neither Mother nor Father will ask how I slept, for I may spill the answer. I am going to do everything I can to keep Misty a secret, as well as the mirror. 


End file.
